The Beast Within

She was a tough kid.  I don't mean 'tough' like she beat anyone up or anything; I mean tough as in stubborn and obstinate.  She was Mary Contrary to anyone who dared challenge her and would dig her heels in so deep, debate with such quickness, most decided in the end to think twice about it next time.  Victory was HERS!!!  Problem was, she was stubborn and obstinate; character traits found in narcissistic, selfish people.  Not really what one looks for in a friend.  Don't get me wrong!  She had plenty of friends!  Tons of them!! They'd hang out, laugh, get in trouble, play Running Bases and Red Rover; but growing up there was really only one that challenged her (almost daily) and hung in all the way through adulthood, God love her!  The downside was that they fought nearly every day!  She loved her and treated her like family...but she never really gave the girl any reason to change; her friend loved her through thick and thin.

But the older she got, the more she realized that being so vocal and contrary was not the means to success, especially for a woman.  So early in her adulthood, she started the difficult task of reinventing herself and willing herself to let things slide or let things go that otherwise she would be all over.  She let people talk down to her without verbally bringing them to their knees simply to keep peace (or her job). She let misinformation go uncorrected so as not to appear contrary or "better than" the informer.  She treated people with kindness, patience, and generosity in the hopes that she would be treated the same; and often she was.  However, too often she wasn't; and that caused her pain.  But she pushed on!  She made a great friend who would wind up being her life-long BAE (before anyone else) and a wonderful guy who would wind up with the life sentence of her husband.  These two loving people put up with her slip-ups and backslides; always there not to shake a finger at her, but to offer a hand to pick her up.  With their help, she continued with her metamorphosis.  In peeling away layers and exposing more delicate tissue beneath, a surgeon needs a strong surgical team there with him in case the scalpel should accidentally penetrate too deeply too quickly and cause too much bleeding. These two were her team.

So after time, she did change.  She became more docile and more forgiving and more patient.  She became more vulnerable too.  She became much more sensitive toward others' feelings as well as toward her own.  For the first time in her life, she became a "cryer".  That was one she wouldn't mind removing!  But be that as it may, one must take the good with the bad!  She was really comfortable in this skin.  She had good friends and liked being the one many turned to for advice or comfort or simply as a sounding board.  Backslides did occur, but she would try to rely more on her intellect and reason and less on simply proving she was right and needing to win.  So she's come quite a long way.

But here's the kicker; people from her early years, family mostly, still see her in her original state and remind her often of past indiscretions or misconduct.  Often it is disguised as humor and just some friendly razzing, but done nonetheless.  For those, the damage may be done.  They may not be willing to erase the past and let the new girl in, but that's not her problem...it's theirs.  When an addict enters recovery and comes out the other side better and stronger than before, will he surround himself with people who will remind him of misdeeds that happened while under the influence or with people who try to put themselves in supporting roles, helping him to continue to fight the good fight?  Do you think that perhaps, if that addict was constantly reminded of the past, said addict might not pull away to save his own skin and to stay focused on his constant battle?  Or worse yet, slip up since he's made to feel it's what's expected?

But she's not an addict.  She'll not slip back into that early role if she occasionally stands up for herself and speaks her mind.  But she thinks she might.  And if she does, she might lose everything she's worked so hard for.  Or if she tells people how they really make her feel, she'll be viewed as pitiful and in need of comfort.  Yuck!  But she's caused herself anguish in losing her voice so although she's worried about how she'll be viewed, she realizes that she has to let a little of that old girl back in.  But in a good way.  She needs to speak up if she sees something wrong in behavior or circumstance but do it before her anguish builds too high.  She needs to maintain the calm she's taught herself.  So much of her pain is self-inflicted because in trying to tame the beast, she's tried to kill the beast.  So like any good animal trainer, she must go back in and face the beast.  Let the beast roar or hiss; they need to do that on occasion, and let its voice be heard in a less off-putting manner.  I've been to circus shows, the tigers bat at the trainer...but gently!  As if to say, "I love you but watch it! I can and may still attack you if you push me too far."

So perhaps she needs to keep some of that soft tissue protected by at least a layer or two; like one's veins are protected by skin.  But look at your hand.  You can still see the veins, right?  Like everyone else at any age, she'll learn from her mistakes for the rest of her life and be constantly tweaking.  She will pass on to the young advice that may prevent those who listen from making the same mistakes she made.  But the young don't listen so she'll look on and offer her hand, not her wagging finger, to help pull them up when they've fallen...'cause she knows just how they feel.

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

The Girl By the Sea

Once upon a time a little girl child was born in the little seaside hamlet of Rockaway Beach.  She was a fair-skinned, dark-haired beauty; the eldest of four children.  She was obedient, loyal, kind, and loving to her family and they all returned in kind.  The six lived a happy though sometimes hard life.  For shortly after she was born, there was a terrible crash heard 'round the world causing almost everyone to fall on hard financial times.  Her father, a successful furniture shoppe owner, was forced out of business.  For who could buy furniture when one couldn't even afford sugar?

So down they went, like their neighbors and friends, falling on the jagged rocks of Hard Times.  Gravy sandwiches and sugarless tea was the lunchtime fare when the little girl would dash home on her school lunch break.  On occasion, however, because her parents so longed to give their children treats from time to time, the little girl would be given a nickel to see a double feature at the local movie theatre.  Sometimes she chose to spend that nickel on a bag full of half-penny candy instead; especially if she'd already seen whatever was showing and didn't have to worry about missing that week's cliff-hanger installment.

The years went on, as did the hard times of the Depression.  The girl, now a young woman, excelled at school, especially numbers, She graduated and in a short time landed herself a job with a large company as the assistant to the head bean counter.  Her starting wage was $18 per week; a windfall by the day's standards!  Everyday she would board the train from her little hamlet to the large island of Manhattan.  Hair in pin curls wrapped in a kerchief, she and a gaggle of others would dash into the restroom and brush out their locks, rouge their cheeks and lips, and begin their day only to return home that evening with straight hair and faded cheeks.  For hair lacquer was for the rich and for the famous actors gracing the great stages of the island.

Along with the scarcity of hair lacquer was that of nylons.  Another luxury afforded only by those not living hand to mouth.  The young woman and her sister would take turns climbing upon a stool and carefully drawing black lines down the backs of their legs to give the illusion of nylons.  Shoes were resoled, socks darned, and dresses worn to threadbare before being replaced for that windfall of $18 was given to her parents to help sustain the household; a common practice of the times.

All this while, as the little girl grew, her industrious father, having lost his furniture store and therefore his livelihood, began the arduous task of relearning a skill at an older age; for how could he find work when younger men were available?  The father steadfastly, by mail correspondence, worked hard and long and was rewarded with a degree in bean counting.  Slowly and surely, he rebuilt his purse.  In the end, he again found himself the proprietor of a successful business built solely on blood, sweat, and tears and the support of a loving wife and family.

The young woman observed all of this, as did her younger siblings, and modeled their lives to that of their parents.  They each married and raised families by trying to mimic how they were raised.  Times were changing, as were children, so failures were inevitable.  But because they were taught by their parents' actions and attitudes to not give up and to always strive for better, in the end, they too, were successful in both family and business.  They raised loving and supportive families who relied and leaned on each other through wars, through recessions, though sickness, and through death.  They never gave up therefore they never failed.

I know these facts to be true for this in not a fairy tale but the story of my incredible mother, her parents, and my aunts and uncle.

~ Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Wherefore Art Thou, Brain?

Did you ever have so much to do that you were physically unable to do anything?  Physically unable because your mind is so churned up and twisted that it can't help you decide what to do first?  Or it's able to tell you what to do first but not able to transmit to your muscles to get the BLEEP off the couch and do it?  I have and I don't have a job outside the house!  

So how do I fix this?  Get more organized?  Gad yes!  Delegate more to my kids?  Well, I suppose I could but they already do their fair share and besides, they're pretty stressed too (at times).  Hire a personal assistant?  Yes! Yes, that's it!!  It may be tough, though, as I've been told I'm not the easiest person on Earth (can you imagine?!)

But honestly, I'm not so crazy busy that I should have such a hard time.  I definitely think a key component is organization --- how's that for an original thought?  FlyLady does it.  Some chica I heard talk at a MOMS Club Luncheon does it and they both make it look so easy!  And dang it if I haven't tried!  And not to blow my own horn or anything, but have you seen my kitchen cabinets?  Works of organizational art! (Except the junk drawer, I need that available for the unexpected visitor for clearing off the kitchen island...leave me that!)  I can locate anything at anytime within seconds.  My clothes and linen closets are pristine.  Refrigerator?  Categorically organized by food groups.  I challenge anyone to knock on my door and inspect them.  

I started Quicken (for the second time) recently with the intent to follow a budget for the first time in my almost 24 years of marriage and to help my husband understand our financial process in case I get hit by a bus.  I did fine until I couldn't get my bank and checkbook and Quicken to match.  It's now been a couple of weeks since I opened the program.  A for effort?  He's good with numbers, he'll figure it out.  And as far as the budget, well, we've come this far....

I pay my bills through the bank as soon as they come in because I'm able to schedule payment dates; unless I don't feel like it.  When that happens, I put them right on top of my computer keyboard so the next time I sit down, in order to do anything at the PC, I MUST pay these bills first.  Unless I don't feel like it.  Then I move them to the top of the printer, right to the right of me, always in my sight so I don't forget to pay them by their due date.  Unfortunately, they are sometimes covered up by miscellaneous papers and I'm scrambling at the last minute to ensure payment is received on time! Here's where the self-saboteur comes in:   I KNOW instead of moving them to the printer it will only take me 30 seconds to sign on to the bank site and set up the payment.  I SEE them on the printer and know that if I don't take 30 seconds to sign on to the bank site and set up the payment I will quite possibly face a late charge.  I WANT to take the 30 seconds but some gear in my brain has frozen rendering me unable to do anything other than NOTHING (which translates into Words With Friends, Candy Crush, Facebook, etc.)

So is it stress, disorganization, or just good old-fashioned laziness?  Yes!  Too lazy to get more organized which totally stresses me out!  I think personal assistant is definitely the way to go.

~ Eileen Cassidy Bishop